


le batteur et sa famille

by eveningg



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gender-Neutral Player, Getting to Know Each Other, Other, devoted batter, player has backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 19:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveningg/pseuds/eveningg
Summary: the batter and the player discuss their pasts, or lack thereof.





	le batteur et sa famille

**Author's Note:**

> i know i am about 10 years late, but listen. i just finished off yesterday and i have things to say  
> batter is probably super ooc but it's whatever

No matter how hard you try, you cannot picture your life before meeting him. You know you had one, you know you had a purpose, you had relationships, but the details have escaped you entirely. Looking back on them only brings you numb frustration and a dull headache.

 

So, as much as it disturbs you that you cannot remember the life you led before the beginning of it all, you decide to instead fixate on the purpose you serve here, by his side. The Batter. Your guidance, your power, is what compel him to continue his holy mission. He intends to purify the world, as he puts it, from the evil that has it in its clutches. All in your name. You don't know what you did to warrant this almost godlike position in the man's life, in the lives of every person you meet, but it's surreal. Flattering, to the point of it not feeling real. Nothing felt real around here.

 

You do a lot of thinking, though, about the things you see, the people you meet. You have a lot of time to think when you aren't leading the way for The Batter in combat with the spectres. You like to document your thoughts in a small notebook you keep in your pocket, as it gives you an outlet for... well, everything. You've had that notebook since the very beginning. The things you have written in it you know you wouldn't be able to tell anyone else, not even him. (Especially not him.)

 

But sometimes, it's hard to keep to yourself. Your own thoughts can freak yourself out more than any scary monster or fucked-up puzzle the two of you encounter, and often. Right now, the thoughts nagging at your brain were all about Japhet and Valerie. No, you hadn't taken the event very well when Japhet first emerged, revealing himself to be the guardian of Zone Two, much to your partner's annoyance. There was nothing the two of you could have done, but there was something about the expression on The Judge's feline face when it had happened that hadn't sat right with you. To be honest, the sound of the small cat's cries for his brother haunted you, even now. You knew that The Batter wouldn't understand, but...

 

The worn pages in your pocket-sized notebook were beginning to run short, and your pen was starting to run out of ink. And, similarly, you were starting to feel stretched thin. As if you'd bitten off much more than you could chew. You raise your head, pausing your fierce scribbling of pen on paper to observe the way your partner sat with his the brim of his cap tipped downwards, obscuring his eyes (and most of his face) from view. You may be projecting here, but like this, all slumped-up against the wall of this empty warehouse, he looked exhausted, too. You wondered if he felt the same empty grief you did. Well, probably not. Confusion, perhaps? Frustration?

 

As if on cue, The Batter stirs to life once these thoughts cross your mind, as he reaches up with one large hand to tap up his brim so his vision comes back to him. He sits up, and you can tell he's tired of resting already.

 

"Are you finished writing?" His tone is annoyed, as he pulls himself up to stand, swinging up his metal bat and resting it on his respective shoulder. "We have important things to do."

 

Well, your question was answered at least. You stand as well, aware of his cold gaze as you brush off the seat of your trousers and slip the pen and notebook into your pocket. "You're right. Let's go."

 

The Batter offers no response, and at this point he's already begun his quick, ever-quiet pace down the room and to the nearest door. You have to speed up to reach him, never being able to match his pace right, and him never slowing down for your sake. That was the essence of the relationship between the two of you: with you always giving, but him never giving back. And, yet, he was absolutely devoted to you. It made no sense. He made no sense.

 

You had to say something.

 

"Could you walk any faster?" He shoots a glance your way, still visibly irritated at having to wait for you to finish writing in your notebook. You had told him to just go ahead, that you would meet him later, after you'd finished, that it wouldn't take longer than three minutes. But he'd refused to leave your side, instead settling on the floor next to you and getting worked up as he did so. You didn't get it. If he wanted to go so bad, why didn't he?

 

"You were the one who held us up." He looks ahead, remaining at the same speed despite your plea. "Maybe if we hadn't stopped, we would be farther ahead."

 

"I told you to go, Batter," you say, exasperated. The last thing you felt up to was bickering. It seemed he felt the same way, as he sighed, his shoulders slumping. Seemingly realizing the juvenile nature of this discussion, or, perhaps, that you were correct, he gave in and slowed his pace just enough so you didn't have to strain to keep up.

 

"I can't, though. I can't go anywhere without you."

 

Well, he was right there. There is silence for a long time, as you consider this. And other things. Your thoughts go back to what you'd written in your trusty notebook, and you knew these troubling questions about family and loss would plague you for the entire trip if you didn't say anything to anyone about them. 

 

When you think about family, you don't really think of anyone in particular. You don't have anyone to think about. You don't know anyone except for the people you've met here, and yet, you know there have been others... you just can't place the memories. At least, that's what you tell yourself to ease the pain. You haven't forgotten them, the memories have just been misplaced. But Valerie and The Judge had a bond, something real, something tangible. They had each other. They loved each other. And for Valerie to just be torn away from his brother so suddenly and without mercy... that did not feel right, or just. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. Valerie was good, so why did he have to die?

 

"Do you ever feel... alone?"

 

The question surprises yourself, the person who asked it, as much as it surprised The Batter. You don't know why you asked it, only that now that you have, you feel as though the weight in your chest has traveled up into your throat, preventing you from speaking any more. The Batter doesn't say anything, and his body language is as unreadable as it always is. You had a feeling that these questions weren't really ones he got often.

 

"No."

 

"N-No?" You clear your throat. Speaking around the lump in your throat is difficult. You felt like you were going to cry, all of a sudden.

 

"No. With you, I could never..." The Batter pauses, considering his words. "I could never feel alone."

 

Well. You manage to smile a little bit at that, as that response wasn't something you'd expected from a guy like him. It makes you feel a little bit better about the whole family thing. You may not remember anything of your past, or the life you once had, but you knew that you at least had an impact on the life of this man. That assurance was comforting, to say the least. You weren't entirely alone after all.

 

"That's... really nice, actually. Thank you, Batter."

 

"It's the truth," he says gruffly, and your smile widens some as you realize he may be a tad embarrassed at this point. You sigh, turning your face away and rubbing away the tears that had threatened to fall. You didn't know why you were so emotional. Then again, these days, you didn't know much of anything anymore. If The Batter notices you doing this, he doesn't say anything about it. You appreciate that.

 

"Batter?" He doesn't say anything in response, yet you can tell he's listening by the way he looks over and regards you with his gaze. You remember them being a nice deep brown color, the last time you had gotten a good look at his face. It didn't happen very often, so when it did, you made sure to take extra good note of his features. "Do you have a family?"

 

You notice how his body seems to stiffen. At this point, his and your pace has slowed down drastically from the beginning of your conversation, and now he is nearly still once again. You watch how he purses his thin lips together and shakes his head once, curtly. "No."

 

"Ah." Perhaps a touchy subject? You regret asking. He looks like he's about to get worked up again, so you start wracking your noggin for things you can do to snuff out the flame before it begins to burn. "Well, I know I have one. Or... at least, had one. I can't remember them anymore." Weren't you supposed to be helping? How was this helping? You were just making him even more annoyed, no doubt. You sigh, shaken once more. "Sure wish I could tell you about them... but I guess we're in the same boat here."

 

Another long silence. You feel the tears threatening to spill once again, but found yourself strangely ashamed. You didn't want him to know you were going to cry. Something told you he didn't find that type of stuff very bearable. No, Batter had no idea how to deal with your emotions in the past, so why would he suddenly now grow an emotional maturity bone? He just wasn't like that.

 

You didn't notice, however, how he looks at you when you turn your face away to rub at your eyes. How his brow furrowed at this display that he didn't even remotely understand or resonate with, yet knew wasn't good. How he struggled, even for a moment, over a response he usually wouldn't think twice about. You didn't see any of this, only looking over at what he has to say to you next.

 

"I have no family," he starts, adjusting his grip on his bat uncomfortably. Was he nervous, you wonder? About speaking to you? About this topic? "But, I have you. As far as I'm concerned, that is all I need."

 

It takes a moment for the surprisingly poignant words to settle in, and by the time they have, The Batter is already speeding up, avoiding your face. You smile, still a little misty-eyed, and hurry to catch up with him once more. "Aw, Batter..."

 

He cuts you off. "For the mission, I mean. You are absolutely important for my quest of purity."

 

"And besides that...?" you press. The Batter is silent, and you have to suppress a giggle. How sweet of him! "You're important to me, too," you admit, feeling all warm and fuzzy. You hope he feels the same way. You triumph in the fact that, even for just a moment, you seem to have broken the hard outer shell of the guy. Who knew he was soft on the inside? The Batter scoffs at your words, most likely embarrassed at the whole situation, but you're already satisfied.

 

Yes. You did have a family, after all. And he carried a bloody metal baseball bat.


End file.
